


This Wasn't The Plan

by shatteredwindows



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, i don't know how to write
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2018-12-04 18:36:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11561007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shatteredwindows/pseuds/shatteredwindows
Summary: Eretria Jackson nearly lost her younger brother to the bomb.Now she's lost him again, and she knows of only one way to start looking...assassins get paid a lot, right?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic, so constructive criticism is welcome, whether it be positivity based, or negativity based!
> 
> There will be little to no grammatical errors, since I'm super particular about that.

It was late in the evening, the sun low on the horizon, most of it's light gone. She checked the magazine of her rifle, confirming the one bullet. The only one she needed. Looking down at the streets below her, the reflections of the bright neon lights in her eyes, she lowered to her knees, and turned her attention to the window in front of her in the dilapidated building she'd selected. She thought of what she was tasked with, and huffed lightly,  
"It's just another job. Get it on with, and you'll be set," she reassured herself. "Then I can find him."

\----------

"John, you know we can't take that risk."  
The sun was sinking beneath the destroyed streets of post-apocalyptic Boston. The redhead glared at him as she spoke, clearly displeased.  
"Dammit, Fahr." A gruff voice sounded. The ghoul pinned a poster to the wall with a thrown switchblade, frustrated. "We can't just sit by and let this happen. Someone's tryin' to get revenge Vic and they're damn well not holding back now! That's two dead on the Neighborhood watch, and there's no telling when another hired gun is gonna try and pull one on me, you, or one 'a my guys!" A hand settled on his shoulder, and he realized he'd tensed up. When he relaxed, Fahrenheit continued.

  
"Stop worrying so damn much. If anything, another merc's gonna get their ass handed to 'em like all the others." Fahr's grip tightened for a moment, then she pulled away, leaving Hancock leaning against the window, his features hardened.  
"Yer right.."  
A gunshot filled their ears, and Fahr leapt a foot in the air, after seeing a bullet hit the wall opposite of the ghoul mayor. It would have grazed his ear if he still had them. He whipped around, grimacing, and catching the eyes of a fleeting woman, who ducked away from the window, a few seconds too late.  
"Sniper!" The redhead ducked around Hancock, pulling him to the side and nearly knocking down the door to his office on her way out.

\----------

Recoil hit her, as did the realization. ..She missed. She had missed. That never happened before. People in her line of work weren't supposed to miss.

_Shit-..he's gonna kill me once the news gets out. If I even get away..._

Regardless, she knew she'd been detected. The distant, angry yelp signaled her to hoist her rifle over her head, and start to grapple back down the side of the building. Seeing the two triggerman outside, she knew she had to be quick. Disregarding the long drop, she detached her homemade grappling hook, and fell onto a fallen billboard, almost breaking her ankle on impact. Thank god for high school gymnastics.

Upon landing, she dashed in the direction of the "Mongrel Alley", not wanting to deal with super mutants and the growing mass of people outside the door to Goodneighbor.  
She'd made it past the fence when a shatter of glass brought a wall of fire between her and the irradiated hounds ahead, stopping her in her tracks.  
Fahrenheit had thrown a molotov cocktail, and held a combat knife, prepared to plunge it into the neck of the sniper, who swiftly armed herself with a .44 Magnum.  
"The fuck you think you're goin'?" There was an edge in her tone that seemed to drive her rage further.  
The sniper remained stark, "Away from you, bi-"  
Thud.  
Her head hit the ground.

 

"Ya couldn't 'a waited, could ya?"


	2. Captured Convict

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tia has been imprisoned for her attempt to kill the mayor. The question is, can she manage to talk her way out of this one?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me forever to get the inspiration to continue this story.  
> I've really been wanting to play Fallout lately but unfortunately I can't, so I'll just have to draw from memory what the game looks like.  
> Anyways, this is a continuation of Eritrea's story.. Obviously..  
> I'm planning out another story for the character I made after me, who shares my name.. who isn't a sole survivor. I'll post a little snippet on my deviantart when it's finished, and a link to that is at the end of the chapter!

_Eritrea opened her eyes to the face of her mother; she was smiling and wrapping her arms around her child._

_"Aw, sweetie. It's alright.." Her mother cooed, "Just give the monkey bars another chance, okay? I'll hold you up while you climb, Tia."_

_Her mother grabbed her by the midriff and held her up to the bars. She reached out to them and grabbed hold of it with both of her hands--_

\-----

\--and her mother's embrace disappeared.

Eritrea opened her eyes to darkness; the only faint light coming from behind a thin, wooden wall. She was in a cell of some sort.. suspended? She glanced up at her hands and realized she was strung up by her wrists, dangling from the ceiling. She squinted, making sure her gloves hadn't been removed. _Thank god.. still on._

As her eyes began to adjust, she took the liberty of checking her other senses. She clicked the heel of her boot on the ground. Ears work. She inhaled deeply through her nose. The air smelled of mold and rotting wood, pretty much what every building smelled like now, and some other underlying stench. _Alcohol?_

After a short time, she could finally see her surroundings. She was in a small cell behind one wall of bars. In the corner, there was a bucket. Well, aren't they generous? She scoffed. On the other side of the bars, there was a wooden chair. The light revealed a few stairs from a staircase. She scanned what she could see of the room for another exit. There didn't seem to be one.

_Seems I'm in a basement, then._

The wooden stairs squealed an awful noise as someone descended the steps. It was a man; older, bald, and wearing a black leather jacket and a pair of dirty jeans. She studied him, keeping her expression neutral as he spoke.

"Mornin' sleepin' beauty. Get a good night's rest?" His voice dripped with sarcasm.

She stayed silent, offering only a blink for a reaction.

His former smirk turned to a scowl, and he raised his fist and banged it against the bars. Now he spoke with obvious annoyance, venom in his words.

"I asked you a question. Now answer it, or I'll make you talk the hard way!" 

"Yeah, actually. Like a baby. You should try getting a concussion sometime, too. I'll even help you!" She only returned his condescending attitude.

He gave her a death stare, glaring through the bars. "You better watch your tongue. I won't hesitate to cut it out of your dirty--"

"Roger, why didn't you tell us she was awake, hm?" Fahrenheit stood at the foot of the stairs, a hand on her hip and the other holding a lit cigarette. She took a puff from it and exhaled.

The man, who Tia now knew as Roger, visibly tensed at her arrival. "Fahrenheit.. I was just waking her up. Whatever, man, she's all yours." He quickly stepped aside, shooting the redhead an ugly look behind her back as he ascended the stairs.

Fahrenheit picked up the chair and set it down, the back facing toward the bars, and sat down, leaning on the back of the chair. "So, you're the jackass who was taking potshots at the mayor. Care to tell me why?"

Tia shrugged as much as she could with her restraints, which just ended up being a slight movement to the left. _Potshots?! This bitch.._ She kept her emotions in check. "Not particularly, no. Why on Earth would you want to know that, anyways?"

Fahr chuckled dryly. "Funny girl. I see." She stepped up to the bars, reaching in and grabbing Eritrea's coat lapels and pulling her toward the bars. "Talk. You really don't want to have me make you. It'll hurt much more than if Roger does it, and last so much longer. This is the last time I'll ask, why were you trying to kill Hancock?"

Tia knew she had nothing to lose, but wouldn't give up that easy. "If he's so eager to find out, why don't you let me speak to the man directly?"

Fahrenheit opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs followed by the rough voice of the ghoul himself.  
"Actually, Fahr, I'll take it from here. Why don't you head upstairs and grab a drink?" He ambled over to her, dawning his typical smirk and carefree appearance. Fahrenheit obliged, tossing her cig to the ground and stomping it out, then proceeding back up to the floor above. 

"So, you're the assassin, ey? Not a very good one if you ask me." Tia looked back over to the chair, where Hancock had taken Fahrenheit's place, standing with his arms in his coat pockets.

"I say it's a lousy shot. Those windows are unbelievably small and there's little to no vantage points right outside of Goodneighbor, really." She watched him as he opened the cell door and stepped inside. 

_That's been unlocked this whole time?_

"Are we gonna be doing this the easy way, or the hard way?" He pulled a knife from the holster under his coat, brandishing the weapon with an expectant look.

"That depends what you'll be asking." She eyed his knife, then looked directly into the ghoul's black eyes. "I don't think you'll be needing that."

"I'll hold onto it 'til I don't. Now.. first question. Why did you try-and fail, might I add-to kill me?" 

The side of Tia's mouth tugged upward in a small smirk, "Right to the action, I see. Simple; I was hired to."

The ghoul nodded, "I guessed. Alright.. who were you hired by?"

She attempted to shrug again. "They never gave me a name. Just promised me compensation for the work." 

He didn't look convinced.

Her lips drew into a thin line and she sighed dramatically, "The middleman was called Rook, though. At least by his 'buddies'. More like bodyguards. It's either short for 'rookie' or a codename, but I doubt they'd trust a rookie with that kind of assignment."

"You're right about that." He gave her a sideways glance, "Why are you so willing to talk? What've ya got to hide?"   
  
She bit the inside of her cheek, "Nothing. That's the thing." She hissed through her teeth, pulling against her restraints, "Listen, I've lost feeling in my arms. Let me down and I'll tell you everything I think is true."  
  
Hancock eyed her suspiciously, thinking over his options for a moment. 

  
...

  
"Fine. Make any sudden movements and this-" He held the knife up, "-is taking a trip into your chest cavity."

  
"Got it." 

  
He pulled a key from his coat pocket, reaching up to where she was handcuffed over a bar attached to the ceiling and uncuffed her wrists. He quickly stepped back as the assassin rubbed at her chaffed wrists and adjusted her gloves and sleeves.

  
"Thanks. Now, what do you want to know?" She grabbed the bucket in the corner and flipped it over to sit on it. Thankfully, it was empty.   
  
"Answer the question I asked before. Why are you so willing to talk?" He crossed his arms, knife still clutched tight in his right hand.  
  
"I die whether I get out of here or not, really. I figure I may as well be useful to someone. Despite the fact that I tried to shoot you, I don't hate you. Hell, I barely know who you are. You're just a 'name on my list' so to speak." Not that there actually is a list..  
  
"So this guy yer working for, he's powerful enough to deal with loose ends that quickly? That shortens the list. Anything ya can tell me about his men?"  
  
"Not especially, no. I don't normally take note of the messangers with these types of jobs. One of the larger guys spoke with a heavy Chicago accent, though. He and the other were armed with semi-automatics. Hermes just had a basic 10 'mil with a short scope."  
  
"Ya certainly seem to know your guns."   
  
She shrugged, "Call it a hobby."   
  
Hancock leaned back against the cell bars and gave her a confused look, "Who the hell are you anyways?"  
  
She matched his expression, albeit less exaggerated, "Whaddya mean?"  
  
"No one's had the balls to try and take me out for years, and you just come waltzing through and try to put a bullet in my skull? You must not be from around here. No merc's desperate enough to do what you attempted."   
  
"I am Eritrea Jackson, and I'm not here to tell you my life story." She didn't bother to repress her sass that time.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> hahaa- i can't write interrogation. yay.  
> i need to watch some more crime shows to refresh my memory on the tactics.  
> my deviantART- https://shattered-windows.deviantart.com  
> Have any questions or suggestions? Feel free to comment below, I don't bite!

**Author's Note:**

> This is really just to see if anyone wants me to continue.  
> The chapters won't be this short, if I do. This is kinda just the starter.


End file.
